


Kiddo

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, RP, Shower Sex, Weecest, Weechesters, top!dean, wee!cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:57:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s heart races every time Dean comes in close to show him how to shoot the Glock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiddo

Dean sat on their bed in the motel room, guns sprawled out on the sheets as he cleaned them. He wasn’t a fan of being put on home duty while their dad was out, chasing down some kind of werewolf along the town’s edge. He cleaned mindlessly as his brother sat nearby, flicking through channels on the tv.

Honestly,  _neither of them_  liked home duty. Sam was getting to the age where he ought to be knowing about these things, and Dean had only ever taken him out shooting a short couple of times. He was half-tempted to now. Dad wouldn’t be back for a few days at the least. It was the perfect opportunity.

Sam got tired of channel surfing and he  **really**  didn’t want to do his homework. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway, they’d be in a new town and he’d be in a new school in probably less than a few days.

Dean was the one entitled with the cool tasks like cleaning the guns and stuff. Sam just assumed it was because he was older and he was more than likely right. He stood up and sauntered over next to Dean, looking at the guns hopefully before staring at Dean, “Think you could take me out shooting again before Dad gets back? It’s been a while.”

Dean was a kick ass older brother and Sam knew he was lucky to have someone take care of him the way his brother did, he maybe even idolized him a little - or a  **lot**.

The older Winchester looked up from the guns, ducking his lips as if he was considering it. He already knew his answer, but he wasn’t about to let his little brother know just how easy it was to convince him of such a thing. Sam would have too much power then, if he knew that.

“Dad won’t be back for a couple of days,” He said aloud, as if thinking about it, “Maybe we could. But only f’you get your homework done. You do that, an’ I’ll take you out.”

Sam rolled his eyes and crossed his small arms across his chest, “We’re not even gonna be here long enough for it to matter, Dean.”

The younger Winchester knew that it was pointless to argue with Dean and he’d eventually have to do whatever he wanted in order to get Dean to take him out. It would almost be worth it though, to have some one on one alone time with his older brother. If you could even consider Dean teaching him to shoot alone time. Which he definitely didn’t.  _Nope, not even a little bit._

Okay, so maybe it was nice to feel Dean’s hands and arms against his whenever he corrected Sam’s aim. It was innocent enough though, his thoughts hadn’t really strayed far from just that.

Dean raised his brows, “It doesn’t matter f’it ‘doesn’t matter cause we’re movin’’, Sam. That’s not how this works. You do your work, you learn what you can. Don’t matter f’you fail, to me, but I want you to know all you can. And to do that, you do your work, so get it done. An’ then I’ll think about bendin’ dad’s rules, an’ takin’ you out to shoot. You gotta earn it, first.”

Sam knew that he was practically smarter than half the kids in his school, maybe even more than half. He wasn’t, however, the type to brag. So he muttered a defeated, “Fine,” Letting his arms fall as he walked over next to the front door and pulled his text book out of his backpack.

He sat down at the table and glanced at Dean once before opening it. It wasn’t like he had a lot to do, just an outline of chapter twenty three for U.S. History. The younger Winchester started reading the chapter, peaking up at Dean from his text book about every other paragraph or so to see if he was getting the guns ready. Sam could already feel his adrenaline pumping, thinking about the rush that came along with shooting a fire arm. Or maybe it was the thought of Dean being in such close proximity  **while** he was shooting. He decided that it was probably both as he refocused his attention and finished the chapter.

Dean sat on the bed still, licking his lips as he put the guns back together, carefully packing the brunt of them away and keeping a few of the lighter ones for Sam to handle out in the field. He counted through the bullets a couple of times, and they were getting low on a few. Maybe after taking Sam out, he’d swing by a good store and replace what he could. John was bound to notice, but he was normally quiet about it.

He assumed that either John knew exactly what Dean was doing, and was fine with it; he’d taught Dean earlier than Sam, so if he had a problem, he was a hypocrite. Or, he just figured Dean used them himself, went out and shot. It couldn’t really have been the ladder, Dean wouldn’t leave Sam alone. And he liked the idea of John knowing that Dean was showing Sam how to use them, and didn’t have a problem with it.

Sam finished the chapter in what he was sure was a new record speed for himself, the anticipation getting the best of him. He pulled his notebook out from underneath of his textbook, opened it up and began outlining the whole chapter. After filling out the entire front of the page and making it halfway down the back, he felt satisfied with his work and shut his books as he stood. “I’m done, you gonna check it like Dad does or do you believe me?” Sam questioned as he stretched, feeling anxious to just get out of the room.

Dean chuckled as he folded up the guns and packed them in his duffel-bag, moving to his boots and stepping into them before tying the laces. He wasn’t even looking up to Sam when he affirmed, “Nah, I know you do what I tell you.” Just like that, honest as the day he was born. He trusted his younger brother more than anything, he knew the kid was good on his word. And, even if he wasn’t, Dean was still sort of fine with that, but he liked the idea of Sam doing so, just for him. That was something their dad would  **never**  have.

Sam walked over beside the bed and slid his shoes on as well, snorting and rolling his eyes like the teenager he was, “Do not. Not all the time.” Which was sort of a lie. It was difficult for Sam not to do what Dean asked, he had a little too much respect and adoration for his older brother. And, as of lately, he’d be lying to himself if he said there wasn’t something else there…  _something_  just underneath the surface of their typical relationship. It was something Sam hadn’t fully figured out yet, but it made him feel good.

“Nah, you don’t,” Dean agreed, “But you do the right thin’s I ask, the important ones.” He moved to the stand by the door, taking up his jacket and grabbing his keys from his old jeans pocket.

“You’re like a snail,” He commented as he twisted the knob, “Do you wanna go shootin’, or not?”

Sam didn’t even bother grabbing his own jacket, he just shook his head as if to snap himself out of a daze and pocketed his hands, following Dean as he muttered under his breath, “You know I do.”

It was stupid, really, how caught up he felt sometimes. Like when he finally snapped out of it, he’d realize he’d been staring at Dean for no apparent reason what so ever. Or when his brother cleaned the guns, Sam liked to watch sometimes. It was no big deal, he was just fascinated with how Dean’s hands moved when he dismantled a gun.

Dean locked the room up, carrying the duffel-bag in one hand and dumping it in the trunk of the Impala. He climbed into her front seat, reaching across the bench to unlock Sam’s door before he returned to the steering wheel, starting her up and smiling at the sudden steady growl of the car.

Sam opened the door and hopped into the Impala eagerly, shutting it a little too roughly in his haste. He grimaced and turned his head slowly to look at Dean, mouthing, “Sorry,” With comically wide eyes and dimples framing his thousand watt smile.

The younger Winchester settled into the passenger side seat easy enough, familiar and comfortable, sitting next to Dean as he looked out the window. “Thanks, Dean,” Sam started, his voice as sincere as he could muster, “For doing this, I know you’d rather be doing something else.”

Dean pulled out of the motel parking lot, smiling to himself as he started off down the road. His brother was infectious some times, the blind innocence and carelessness of his words. He had no idea that this was one of Dean’s favorite things to do. Taking Sam out, treating him, spoiling him rotten, it wasn’t something Dean did or got to do often, but he always felt better with his brother’s smiles. It probably insured that Sam got away with fifty percent more than he would if he was anyone else, but Dean would have it no other way.

* * *

The older Winchester set out the duffel-bag, sifting through it and pulling out the Glock and loading a magazine into it. He walked back to Sam, handing the gun over and motioning to the glass beer bottles he’d set up a ways away. “Thin’ you can, or you want me there with you on the first few squeezes?”

Sam tested the weight of the gun in his hand as he looked at Dean, shrugging slightly as he swallowed, “Would you mind?” The thing was, Sam remembered how to do it perfectly. But, this way, acting a little naive about it, got him closer to Dean.

Dean chuckled and moved in, turning Sam slightly, his palms on the younger Winchester’s shoulders before he reached out. He enveloped his brother, long arm taking Sam’s gun hand up and aiming it.

“Remember to relax, an’ don’t pull the trigger, you squeeze it, otherwise the kick is fuckin’ balls deep.” His lips were just near Sam’s ear as he spoke, lightly grazing it, and he turned in closer, “You breathin’ good?”

Sam tilted his head slightly towards Dean, fighting a shiver as his brother’s breath hit his skin. It wasn’t as easy to relax as he wished it’d be, he felt tense and anxious this close to Dean. He took a deep breath in through his nose and blew it out through his mouth and nodded, his finger barely on the trigger, “I’m fine, got it.” Sam focused on one of the beer bottles, aiming carefully, he let out another steady breath as he squeezed the trigger.

The older Winchester could feel just how tense Sam  **really**  was, it almost bothered him, but he didn’t say anything about it. If it didn’t go away though, he’d be forced to ask. He smiled at the solid aim and his left hand settled on Sam’s waist without actually thinking about it.

“Almost perfect,” He said against the shell of his brother’s ear, his chest pressing to Sam’s shoulder blades, “But, then again, you’ve always been good at aimin’; lot better’n I was at your age.”

Sam just wanted to melt into his brother’s touch, it was warm and overwhelming at the same time. Dean’s hand on his hip was more than he’d anticipated though, and Sam couldn’t stop his body’s reaction to it. Thank God Dean was behind him and to Hell with being a teenager. The younger Winchester knew that his feelings towards Dean were changing, rapidly so. It wasn’t really until they were close, that Sam could see it for what it really was. And even then, he felt guilty for it.

“I’ve got a good teacher,” Sam admitted, his voice noticeably off-key, much to his dismay.

“You  **have**  a teacher,” Dean corrected, chuckling, “I learned all on my own, dad took me out, but not enough to show me all’a this.” It was being this close to his brother that always confused Dean. He recognized his own, less than platonic, feelings for Sam; they were impossible to miss. But he tried his hardest not to treat his brother wrong, not to abuse his clueless naivety. Still, being this close to Sam, it was a treat, it was something he didn’t dare allow to himself too often.

Both of his hands tightened as he closed his eyes, simply reveling in the feel of Sam against him, the softness of his brother, “Two more,” he breathed out, “Then I’ll let up, okay? I thin’ you got this on your own.”

Sam frowned to himself, practicing wasn’t much fun if Dean wasn’t helping him. But it wasn’t like he could just ask him to stay close, that was bound to put things out in the open and make things awkward. Not to mention that, if he moved away, he was liable to see the boner Sam had been sporting since Dean pressed up against him.

The younger Winchester pulled the gun up to aim again, not paying a ton of attention, because  **maybe** , just maybe, he wanted to miss on purpose; thinking it would give Dean the incentive to stick around. The kick of the second shot forced Sam back, impossibly closer against Dean, further instigating the ongoing problem in Sam’s jeans.

“Careful, hey,” Dean’s hand tightened on Sam’s for a moment and the other moved from his brother’s hip, to his stomach almost, bracing him. “Squeeze, I said, don’t let that thing knock your arm out.” He reached back along his brother’s forearm, his shoulder, with the one that was guiding Sam’s gun, feeling the joints, “You okay?”

Sam dropped his arms briefly and willed the boner to go away, this was going to go south pretty quickly if he couldn’t get a handle on the situation. It was damn near impossible though, with Dean constantly touching him. The younger Winchester raised his aim again and tried harder this time, actually aiming instead of botching it, “It’s just one missed shot. I’m fine.”

Dean’s hand dropped from Sam’s stomach and he backed away, “Alright, f’you say so.” He had to make some sort of distance between them, otherwise he was just going to make Sam even  **more**  uncomfortable than he already was.

Sam took another deep breath and pulled the trigger, effectively busting one of the beer bottles to pieces. He rolled his shoulder’s a little and looked back at Dean, clearly proud of himself, but curious as to why Dean moved, “You pulled back before the second shot, what gives?” It was a small mercy in disguise though, it had given Sam enough time to dissolve his personal issue.

“You said you had it, figured I was just crowdin’ your space,” Dean explained, moving back to the duffel-bag and taking his jacket off, setting it over the guns. “Can’t really say I’ve had someone loomin’ ver me before. Probably throws thin’s off.”

“I said I was fine,” Sam shook his head an frowned a little, “Didn’t say I had it.” Sam dropped it at just that though, didn’t even bother telling Dean that it  **didn’t**  bother him when he was close. Well, it did, but in a good way. Or as good as popping a boner for your brother can get. Sam turned and drew the gun up again, he fired and busted another bottle to pieces.

Dean pulled up a magazine and stood by his brother, just within arms reach, in case the younger Winchester needed him. It wasn’t often that he had to fix himself up, correct an action towards Sam, but he’d felt how uncomfortable his brother had been. Dean wasn’t sure if it was because of him being overly cautious or being a horrible older brother, praying on the younger innocence. Sometimes it made his stomach roll uncomfortably, but he pushed it back. Leaving Sam out to dry was worse than wanting to be… Closer. At least with Dean, Sam would never have to worry for his life.

Dean wasn’t as close to Sam as he was before, but it was better than nothing, so it’d have to do. Sam fired off a few more shots, each with more precision than the last until he effectively emptied the magazine and busted all the bottles.

The younger Winchester turned to Dean and held the gun out, his shoulders slumped, “I’m done, wasn’t as much fun as I thought it’d be.” And at this point, Sam’s aim was practically perfect. In his mind, it was pointless to continue unless Dean was  **helping**  him. He was pretty sure he had this down months ago, he’d just been persisting in order to be close to Dean.

“You okay, kiddo?” Dean asked, pursing his lips and watching his brother in concern, “That last buck with the gun actually do you in or somethin’?” Sam had been all kinds of excited to come out and shoot, it sort of bothered Dean that the younger Winchester seemed completely put out now.

“I’m not a kid, Dean,” Sam huffed, contradicting himself as he waved the gun impatiently for Dean to take it, “Stop calling me that.” The younger Winchester knew he was being a brat, but it just irked him when Dean called him ‘kiddo’. It just cemented the whole ‘he’s never going to want you the same way’ mentality.

Dean snatched the gun from his brother’s hand suddenly, smacking Sam on the back of the head with the other as he did so. “You keep up with that lip, Sammy boy,” He dared, giving his brother a scolding look before he moved to the duffel-bag and began packing things up.

Sam rubbed the back of his head as he waited on Dean, looking off in the other direction, “Why do you gotta treat me like Dad does?” Granted, Dean let him get away with a Hell of a lot more, but he still had a parental streak to him. It bothered Sam too, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it.

“Because some times you act like you’re fuckin’ seven years old again,” Dean responded as he pulled the bag up, walking to Sam and motioning him towards the Impala, “Maybe f’you act your goddamn age, I’ll treat you like you deserve to be treated.”

“I just don’t like it when you call me kiddo,” Sam turned to look at Dean, frowning as he shrugged his shoulders, “How does that mean I’m acting like I’m seven years old?”

The younger Winchester didn’t even wait for a response, he ran a hand over his face and started towards the Impala, “I’m gonna wait by the car.” If anything, this made Sam realize he needed to snuff out his feelings for Dean. It was silly to think they could be reciprocated anyway, childish even. Which he was starting to believe he was.

Dean rolled his eyes and followed after his brother, “See?  _That_. That attitude right there is what makes you seem like you’re younger than you are, actin’ all butt hurt an’ shit, like the world owes you somethin’. You act like that an’ you’ll never get a girlfriend, you’ll never age passed nine years old, cause you gotta have that attitude, whip it right out when somethin’ ain’t goin’ your way.”

Sam leaned back against the passenger side door with his hands in his pockets, “Whatever. I don’t want a girlfriend anyways.” One thing that Dean got from Dad, was the fact that he overreacted over things like this. The younger Winchester just wanted to be an equal to Dean, not someone that Dean looked down at.

Dean walked up to his brother, setting the duffel-bag on the hood of the car before he took up the spot beside Sam. He leaned in close, nudging Sam’s shoulder, “You wanna talk about it?” Something was definitely off with the younger Winchester, and he wasn’t going to let up until he had a reasonable explanation.

“Not really, no,” Sam lolled his head to the side to look at Dean, “You wouldn’t understand anyways.” The younger Winchester wanted to be mad at Dean, brood for a little bit longer. But, it was damn near impossible when Dean was just being so…  **Dean**.

“I may not completely empathize, or understand, but I could probably help out a lot more than you think,” Dean offered again, “M’not gonna leave you alone ‘til you tell me. An’, besides, it clears thin’s up with yourself some times, tellin’ someone else, whether they really understand or not.”

“It’s bad enough you look at me like I’m some little kid who’s got no idea about anything,” Sam pushed off from the car and turned, looking at Dean with a straight face, “I’m not gonna add insult to injury. Just believe me, not only would you not understand, but you wouldn’t  **want**  to know, okay?”

“Sam,” Dean suddenly became very serious, the smile wiping from his face at once, “It’s obviously botherin’ you. I wanna help. An’… There is nothin’ about you, nothin’, nothin’ at all, that I don’t wanna know, you understand? Now, tell me what it is already.”

“It’s only bothering me now, because  **you’re**  treating me like a child,” Sam gritted out before deflating, “I  _can’t_  tell you, Dean. Just drop it, please?” Sam wanted to hold on to his geek brother status a little longer, he didn’t want to see the hatred and disgust displayed on Dean’s face towards him, if he told him.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, staring at Sam with raised brows, waiting. He wasn’t exactly sure what his brother was going on, or  **not** really going on, about, but it seemed serious; serious enough to be explained. And Dean wasn’t going to budge.

“Why are you doing this?” Sam questioned, pacing in front of Dean, “I should be allowed to have my secrets, you don’t need to know  **everything** about me.” It wasn’t fair, but Dean was stubborn and he knew he’d probably end up outing himself just in order to get out of here.

“Because,” Dean reached out, taking Sam’s forearms and forcing the younger Winchester to look at him, “It’s botherin’ you. An’ somethin’ like that can just eat you up inside,” he could relate, “You can’t keep somethin’ like that in, Sam, it’s gonna smother you, f’you do. I’m tryin’ to be your goddamn brother, an’ help you out. It’s what I do. No matter what.”

“That’s the problem!” Sam said before he could stop himself, his eyes widening as he jerked his arms away, “You’re my  **brother**.”

Dean frowned, reaching out for Sam again as his stomach twisted, “Well, yeah, dumb ass, I am. Now’re you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I hafta take you down to get it out?”

Sam pulled away again and bent over, his hands on his knees as he chuckled sarcastically, “And you call  **me**  a dumb ass.” The younger Winchester had practically told him in a more subtle way. It wasn’t his fault that Dean wasn’t so quick on the uptake sometimes. Now it was just a matter of time. Sam watched Dean’s face and waited for the disappointed expression to take over.

Dean turned his head in confusion as he watched his brother, thinking over the conversation and exchange. But there was no way Sam could actually be implying  _that_ , no way possible. If he asked and was wrong, it would just make things worse, so Dean had to move very, very carefully now.

“Sam, m’not exactly sure what you’re talkin’ about, an’ I may be a moron or somethin’, I don’t care, but I’d rather you tell me straight up, instead of beatin’ ‘around it.”

Sam stood up straight and shook his head as he moved towards the door of the car, “Dean, I’d  **really**  rather not tell you…  **Again** ,” Sam muttered the last word under his breath, “Can we please just go?” The younger Winchester couldn’t open the car door though, his brother was blocking it. He felt like he was going to get sick as he continuously anticipated things to click into place for Dean.

It was so obvious, it couldn’t really be anything else, could it? It had to be. And Sam was scared, but there’s nothing else Dean would be more afraid of someone knowing, than his feelings for his brother. But goddamn, was it actually  **possible**  for Sam to feel the exact same way? Was it  **really**  possible?

He reached up carefully, touching his brother’s chin lightly with his fingertips, making the younger Winchester look at him. He tried to be subtle with it, enough to get a reaction, but not too much to push, in case he was wrong. Their noses touched and he stared into Sam’s eyes, stone serious as he said, “No, how ‘bout you tell me what it is, Sam.”

Sam’s breathing hitched and he licked his lips, his nerves beginning to show as he stared at Dean, trying his best not to look at his brother’s lips. This was the point where he should have backed away, but no. Sam couldn’t force himself away from Dean if he tried, not when what he wanted was just a breath from him.

“Can’t,” Was literally all Sam could muster and he was sure he should’ve been humiliated with how high pitched and broken it sounded, but Dean was just  **right**  there and he wasn’t really thinking straight.

Dean moved closer, backing Sam up against the side of the Impala as his thumb moved up, caressing the pocket of his brother’s lips, the very right corner, and he looked down at them pointedly, staring for a solid moment before looking back into his brother’s eyes, “No?”

Sam had to close his eyes for a moment, because the way Dean was looking at him was messing with him. He entertained the thought that maybe Dean knew, and he felt the same, but that was just absurd, right? Sam opened his eyes and returned a pointed look at Dean’s lips as he moved his hips backwards as far as he could (which wasn’t far at all, because Dean had Sam cornered against the Impala), because if Dean brushed up against him, things would be pretty obvious. The younger Winchester just shook his head and tried to keep his breathing calm, which he was failing at, miserably.

“It’s when I get close,” Dean reached his freehand out, taking Sam’s hip like he had before, with the shooting lesson, “That’s it, right? I noticed earlier, you were tense like this.”

He stepped closer and pressed their bodies flush. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest, feeling Sam’s excitement press into him, he already knew what was going on. “An’ you’re still not gonna tell me, are you? You’re gonna make me ask you first?”

Sam bit his bottom lip so hard he could taste copper, his breathing was erratic as a blush spread across his cheeks and down his neck, “I don’t know what you want me to say, Dean. I don’t-I can’t even find the words.”

Dean rolled his hips forward, just enough to tease his brother. He pulled back, licking his lips and unlocking the passenger’s side door before he took up the duffel-bag from the hood. He walked to the trunk, dumping everything inside and finally moving to the driver’s side, “Let’s go?”

Sam honest to God whimpered when Dean rolled against him and he was surprised he didn’t come in his jeans from just that. He blinked a few times before nodding and sliding into the Impala. Sam’s little theory didn’t seem quite so bizarre anymore, especially not after that. If he was confused about his feelings before, he was even more lost now. The younger Winchester sat back in the seat, tensed up as he rested his hands on his lap to hide what Dean already knew was there.

Maybe the next time they went out shooting, things wouldn’t be completely awkward between them. Dean smirked as he drove back to the motel, keeping his eyes firmly on the road as he did so, making sure to give his brother what little privacy he could within the confines of the car.

They got back shortly and Dean took the duffel-bag out of the trunk once more, carrying it on his shoulder, back into the room, Sam following behind.

Sam kept his head down as he walked into the room and shut the door behind him with his foot, his hands in his pockets. He’d always just assumed that, if Dean ever reciprocated his feelings, that things would be easy, effortless even. Which was why it was a little confusing as to why it felt like anything but easy. It felt awkward and Sam didn’t know what to do with it.

The younger Winchester went straight for the small couch and sat down, staring at the black television screen like it held the worlds secrets or something.

Dean unpacked the guns, unloading the ones he’d prepared, they’d only used a handful of bullets, it wasn’t worth going and buying more just yet. He tugged off his jacket once more, laying it out on the back of the chair sitting at the table before he sauntered over to his brother, and took the seat by him once more, “So, we’re gonna talk ‘bout this now, yeah?” He didn’t know how else to say it, or how to start the conversation, but he figured the longer they ignored it, the harder it would be to bring it up. Best to just get everything out there in the open as fast as possible.

And while Sam seemed to be confused about his own feelings for Dean, the older Winchester’s were very, very clear. And now, knowing how Sam felt, Dean wanted to make sure that he was just as clear to his brother as he was to himself.

Sam’s gaze diverted slowly from the television to Dean and he furrowed his brows and nodded minutely, “Guess so.”

If possible, it was kind of a relief that Dean spoke up first. Sam had felt like his stomach was in his throat the entire time, still almost embarrassed and ashamed of himself. At this point, all of this just felt like a really bad dream that he was going to wake up from at any moment. He even pulled one of his hands out of his pocket and pinched his other arm. But, nope, it was real.

“Look, Sam,” Dean started, trying to take the big brother initiative and lead Sam by the hand, “I dunno how you feel about me, but I think I need to be clear with you, ‘bout my feelin’s for you.” He swallowed slightly, watching the younger Winchester, trying to gauge his reaction, “They haven’t really been completely platonic… For a while now.”

Sam’s eyes widened a little as he looked away, “My feelings for you aren’t exactly  **strictly**  platonic either,” He looked back at Dean, confusion clear as day on his face,”I don’t know what to do, Dean.” The younger Winchester was terrified and Dean was handling this…  **well** , so, there was that.

“I don’t know f’there really is a specific  _way_  to handle somethin’ like this,” Dean said, staring hopelessly at his brother, “Best I got is what I know, an’ the only thin’ I really know is you. My guess is… We just feel it out, figure out thin’s from there. But I don’t wanna hurt you, or do somethin’ you don’t want me to. I thin’ it’s best that… Well, that you run this, because I’m fine with anythin’ you do, an’ I’m not exactly sure f’I’m comfortable with shovin’ you into thin’s. I’m older than you, whether we like it or not, s’best you run the show.”

Sam took a deep breath and pulled his other hand out of his pocket slowly, his entire body trembling slightly as he moved over and straddled Dean hesitantly. The younger Winchester watched his hands as he grabbed Dean’s shirt lightly, he raised his eyes slowly to Dean’s, “I don’t know if I can.”

Sam wanted to pat himself on the back for the valiant effort it took to get this far, he was still partially terrified. It was understandable though, this was new territory for the both of them.

Dean settled his palms on his brother’s hips, the large paws covering them and showing him the serious contrast in their ages.

“M’right here, baby boy,” Dean assured him, staring into Sam’s eyes and smiling, “You’re not alone, an’ you got me to help you. F’you want, you can ask me, an’ I’ll do what you want, you just gotta let me know, just be real clear to me what you want me to do.”

Sam licked his lips, he looked down between them where Dean’s hands had settled on his hips before looking back at Dean, “I want you to kiss me.” If things were going to be like this, he was sure he could handle it. As far as initiating things though, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that; not until they were comfortable with this.

Sam’s face was still serious and his body was tense, despite Dean’s efforts to comfort him, “Please?”

Dean sat up, his hands still on Sam’s waist, holding him close as Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to his brother’s. He was careful, gentle, and his heart was hammering violently in his chest. Sam had even **asked** , and the older Winchester was still completely fucking terrified of doing it, of doing something wrong, of hurting his brother. He didn’t want to, but Sam had asked, and he wasn’t going to deny his brother of anything,  _anything_ , ever.

Sam a brought a hand up to Dean’s chest as he melted into the kiss, moving his lips in turn with Dean’s. He was inexperienced, but he didn’t really care. It was overwhelming and so fulfilling to have Dean like this, everything between them out and the open. And for the first time since the awkwardness started between them, he actually felt like he could breathe.

“Sam,” Dean all but shuddered out as his hand moved, cradling the side of Sam’s face as he deepened the kiss, lips parting slightly, just enough to get a real taste of the younger Winchester’s. His tongue brushed Sam’s bottom lip in one quick swipe and he had to hold back an approving groan.

Sam shifted his hips slightly, trying to bring himself closer to Dean as he willingly opened his mouth for the older man. He slid his tongue along side Dean’s, reveling in the sensation and the taste that was so distinctly Dean. The younger Winchester tugged on Dean’s shirt in an effort to pull him closer, then wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck.

Dean’s eyes opened, widening in surprise at his brother’s approving response. He groaned then, unable to stop himself this time and he licked along the bottom of Sam’s top lip, the hand on his brother’s waist tightening as he struggled to hold himself back. But goddamn, he wanted the younger Winchester so  **bad** , he’d always wanted this. He had to be gentle though, he had to be careful with his baby boy; the last thing he wanted to do was to scare him or chase him away.

Sam hardened almost instantly when he heard Dean groan, the hum of pleasure reverberating through his lips as he pushed himself back, wide eyes as he shook his head. This was a lot to take in and, it wasn’t that he didn’t want Dean, he just wasn’t really ready for anything more than heavy making out at this point. Okay, well, maybe that was a lie. Sam was just terrified of the unexpected and whatever this thing was between them, it was heating up quick.

“Sorry,” Dean breathed and pulled away, practically dumping Sam on the couch as he stood from it and walked out to the center of the room. Goddamn, he knew he’d go too far, that was why he wanted Sam handling it in the first place. But,  _fuck_ , he was so hard, he almost couldn’t breathe because of it.

Sam looked over the back of the couch, dumbfounded as to why Dean just up and left him there, “For what?”

The younger Winchester replayed everything in his mind, trying to find something Dean might have done wrong and he came up empty handed. Sam had pulled away because he’d gotten hard, that  **and**  he was scared shitless.

Dean, with his back to Sam, ran his hand over the front of his jeans and sighed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. It’d been years since he was  **this**  hard,  _goddamn_. “Sorry, I… I don’t wanna push you,” He breathed out, “I tried not–not to.”

“You weren’t pushing me, Dean,” Sam shook his head, even though Dean wasn’t looking, “I’m just scared, okay? I’ve never even kissed a girl, this is new to me.”

The younger Winchester turned around properly on the couch, his back to Dean’s as he rubbed the front of his jeans and shuddered, “I want you. I want you so bad I feel pathetic about it, but I’m terrified.”

“I’m the same way,” Dean shuddered as he bit his lip so hard that he might’ve taken a chunk from it, “M’not,” He stammered as he tried to breathe, “M’not much better off than you are, baby boy. I just… I dunno what to do with this.”

 _Christ, Sam was hard too,_  and it wasn’t the most fun thing to ignore. He practically staggered back to the couch, sitting down and breathing as he looked at his brother nervously, “What do you want to do with this, Sam? Cause I can’t just decide for the both of us.”

“I just…” Sam started and scooted closer to Dean as he drew a leg up to turn more towards him, “I want you, but you can’t just expect me to call the shots.”

In retrospect it was a nice thought, considering Sam was never in control of anything. The younger Winchester pointedly rubbed the front of his jeans again, to prove his point, that he wanted Dean.

Dean nodded as he reached out and took Sam’s arm, drawing him in close and running a finger down his brother’s jaw as he stared into Sam’s eyes, “You don’t gotta do everythin’, baby boy. But you’ve gotta lead me more, I can’t just do thin’s to you, I can’t. I needa know, I need you to say em’, as often as you can, you just tell me what to do.”

Sam licked his lips and leaned in, his hand shakily pressing against Dean’s erection as he whispered into his ear, “Can I blow you?”

 _Baby steps, right?_  Besides, it was something Sam had wanted to do for a while and he damn near salivated from just the thought of it. If he could manage at  **least**  this, things would happen more easily afterwards.

Dean nearly fucking blew his load at just his brother’s  **suggestion**  of giving him a blow job. How could he possibly say ‘no’ to that kind of request? “Sammy,” He breathed as his eyes widened, but he nodded, “Any time, though, any time you wanna stop; you can.”

“Okay,” Sam kissed Dean on the cheek before moving back and down into the floor between Dean’s knees. The younger Winchester ran his hands up his brother’s thighs slowly, cautiously as his eyes flickered to Dean’s.

“I’ve never done this before,” Sam admitted, though he was pretty sure that much was obvious, “If it’s bad, I’m sorry.” He unbuttoned Dean’s jeans and tugged at them just enough to reach his trembling hand down into his brother’s boxer briefs and pull him out.

“S’fine, baby boy,” Dean breathed, touching Sam’s hair with slightly shaking fingers, “You just take your time, there’s no rush.”

 _Jesus fucking Christ,_  he almost couldn’t take this. If he’d thought his first blow job had been arousing, this was… Sam just had his _fucking hand on it_  and it was already…  _Goddamn_. He seriously needed to breathe and calm himself down.

Sam grinned slightly and wrapped his hand back around it, testing the weight and width of it in his hand as he tugged a few times experimentally. The younger Winchester pressed his body close in between his brother’s thighs as he licked his lips.

He leaned in, took a deep breath and pressed his lips to the plush head of Dean’s cock before opening his mouth and enveloping a decent part of the length. It tasted better than he’d expected, or maybe it was just Dean in general that made it seem that way. Either way, it didn’t seem so difficult and God knows that he’d watched enough porno’s to get the gist of it.

He wrapped his hand more firmly around the base of Dean’s cock and pumped the shaft as he worked the tip with his mouth, flicking his tongue out occasionally to trace the vein along the underside.

“Goddammit, Sammy,” Dean breathed as he watched his brother.

His body shuddered under Sam’s ministrations, his hand moving to run through the younger Winchester’s hair as he kept his hips completely vice grip still. The last thing he was going to do was ruin this for his brother. It was Sam’s first time, and he wanted to make sure it went as well as he possibly could make it. He was just nervous, this was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen; watching his little brother take him in, watching how eager he was to please Dean.

He felt the swell of pride as his cock throbbed and he let out a slow, shaky breath, “Perfect, goddamn.”

Sam bobbed his head on Dean’s cock for a little longer, smiling around the width of it when Dean reacted the way he did. There was saliva dripping from the corner of Sam’s mouth when he pulled off, Dean’s cock slicked wet as Sam pumped the head of it, sliding his mouth along the length as he teased Dean a little, “This okay?”

“Goddamn, yes it is,” Dean said in approval, fingers running through Sam’s hair as he smiled weakly, “You’re doin’ perfect, baby boy, just fuckin’ perfect.” The image of his brother before him beat out about every fucking sin in the book, Dean was sure, but it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Dean’s fingers in his hair urged him further, he continued to jack the shaft as he wrapped his mouth back around the tip, moaning about it as he took as much of Dean as he could without gagging. It was damn near intoxicating, to get such a reaction out of his brother.

Sam  **had**  to touch himself, so he reached his free hand down and grabbed the outline of his own cock and applied pressure while continuously sucking on the older Winchester.

Dean shifted slightly, licking his lips as his free hand reached up, running over the front of his shirt and teasing his nipples through the cotton. He was close already, very close, but he was struggling to hold it back, just drinking in the image set out before him, the boy on his knees, his own hand touching himself, sweet lips wrapped around Dean’s cock.

Sam was a little more bold with it at this point, his own pleasure as he pawed at his cock through his jeans taking him over as he held his breath and forced himself all the way down on Dean. The younger Winchester chanced a look up at Dean and moaned around his brother’s cock as he came in his jeans. Dean just… he looked so fucking  _good_  and he was touching his nipples and watching. Sam couldn’t control it if he tried. He moved his hand from his jeans and refocused all of his attention to Dean, humming in approval each time he took him down, squeezing his hand tighter along the silky shaft.

“Sam,” Dean sat up, biting his bottom lip as he reached out, “I can’t, stop,” He said. He was close, it was going to happen and he couldn’t stop it. Staring at his brother, those eyes looking up at him, it was too fucking much. “M’gonna come, an’, just,” He started to push his brother back.

Sam pulled off long enough to get out a breathy, “Just let me,” Before going back at it, with possibly more vigor than before. If Sam was going to do this, then it was all or nothing. And when it came to Dean, Sam wanted everything he had to offer.

“Dammit, Sammy,” Dean kept his eyes on his brother, watching him and it only took but a moment longer. His toes curled, the hand in Sam’s hair balling up into a fist as he came, gasping and saying his brother’s name over and over, and over again, “Sammy, dammit, baby boy - Sammy.”

The warm liquid filled Sam’s mouth as he continued to suck Dean down, milking him completely before sitting back on his calves. Sam used the back of his hand to wipe the saliva off his chin as he drank in the sight before him, the front of his jeans damp with his own come. It was a good look on Dean, that post-orgasm glow definitely suited him well. It was something Sam knew he’d want to see again and again. All in all, nothing about it was bad. But, he was also entirely convinced that anything involving Dean could never be  **bad**.

The older Winchester licked his lips, tucking himself away as he reached out, pulling Sam up easily into his lap and kissing him. He could taste the stick of come on his brother, the familiarity of it causing him to smirk. He breathed calmly through his nose and licked along his brother’s bottom lip, one hand smoothing over the stomach of Sam’s shirt.

Sam cupped the side of Dean’s face hesitantly as he smiled into the kiss, he pulled back slightly to admire Dean’s features, “So, no more calling me kiddo now, yeah?”

“F’that’s what you want,” Dean agreed, shrugging as he settled back against the couch, hands resting on Sam’s waist as his breathing returned to normal, “I didn’t know it was such a problem, ‘til now. But if it leads to thin’s like this, maybe I shouldn’t stop after all.”

“It only led to  _this_  because you don’t know how to leave well enough alone,” Sam muttered as he leaned into Dean, kissing timidly along the older man’s jawline as he wrapped his arms around his neck, “You’re stubborn.” Which was practically common knowledge. Anyone with the last name Winchester was usually stubborn as hell.

Dean chuckled and nodded, “Well, it comes in handy some times, can’t really complain about it too much.” His stomach twisted in an odd jerk, responding to his brother as he glanced down at Sam, “So, s’at why you wanted to go shootin’?”

Sam pulled back, a shy grin playing at the corner of his mouth as he looked down and shrugged, “Might’ve been.” It felt weird, to be admitting something like this to Dean, but it wasn’t like there was any point in hiding anything.

“I thought so, I mean, it makes sense now that I put the two together,” Dean reached up, running his thumb through the pocket of Sam’s left dimple, “We can go tomorrow, f’you want. It’ll be different.”

Sam looked at Dean and nodded slowly, “I’d like that.”

* * *

Dean moved in close against the back of Sam, his right arm reaching out to mirror the gun in his brother’s hand, aiming it carefully ahead. It was both a farther distance from before, and a heavier gun, the Taurus, one of Dean’s personal favorites.

He turned his jaw line against Sam’s ear and said, “This one’s gonna kick harder, so you be ready for it, yeah?”

Sam was looking forward to shooting today. It  **was**  going to be different, this time he didn’t have to hide the fact that he liked having Dean right behind him. His initial response to what Dean said was to tense up, but if he tried shooting while tense, he was liable to miss. At least if it kicked hard, he had Dean to fall back on.

The younger Winchester tilted his head towards Dean a little and sighed, “I’ll try,” As he willed himself to relax, breathing calmly as he squeezed the trigger.

The older Winchester was ready for it, he knew Sam wasn’t going to expect the actual strength of the gun in his hand and he kept Sam’s arm straight out, firm in response to the kick. It was a clear shot though and, with little aim and assistance on Dean’s part, he could tell that Sam was getting better. At this rate, he’d have to ask **his brother**  for pointers.

“You have to be ready for it, I told you,” He said, smirking slightly and holding Sam’s arm tighter, “It’s one of the roughest we have.”

If it wasn’t for Dean, Sam was pretty sure he would’ve landed flat on his ass. Despite the kick though, it wasn’t a bad shot. “Not sure if I like it,” Sam admitted as he shrugged with one shoulder, leaning into Dean.

Dean chuckled again, his left hand resting on Sam’s waist as he re-situated the soles of his feet, “It’s probably one of my favorites. Squeeze off a couple more, I gotchya.”

Sam shook his head and aimed, there were two bottles right next to each other and instead of breaking between shots, he went from one bottle to the next, effectively shattering both.

The younger Winchester could feel the kick of the gun reverberating clear up his arms as he lowered the gun, “Christ.”

“Uh huh,” Dean grinned, “She’s much better when you’re shootin’ consecutively. Those first shots are always the roughest. Give it time, she’ll be one of your favorites, just like she is mine.” His hand had moved again, mindlessly as it had the day before, to the center of Sam’s stomach.

It was getting later in the day, and they’d have to get back to the motel soon enough. Tomorrow, John would be back, and they’d probably set off before the weekend was even over. So Sam had done his homework for no apparent reason at all.

“First the Impala, now the gun,” Sam started, grinning as he joked, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel jealous.” The younger Winchester dropped his left hand and rubbed it over Dean’s where it laid on his abdomen.

“Jealous of an inanimate object?” Dean joked, raising a brow and squeezing his fingers on Sam’s hip slightly. He had waited so long, to be this close to his brother, some times it was astonishing just how long it’d been. And Sam’s response, his acceptance, it wasn’t something he’d even bothered hoping for. His lips brushed the shell of the shorter Winchester’s ear as he responded, “You don’t have anythin’ to be jealous of, Sammy. You’re perfect.”

Sam turned, keeping his body close to Dean’s as he held the gun out for his brother, “We should probably get back.” It was a little after sunset and Sam just wanted a little more alone time with Dean before John came back.

“Yeah, you wanna pick somethin’ up on the way back in?” Dean suggested, pulling away just enough that he didn’t feel his brother’s heartbeat against his chest, “We could get pizza or somethin’.”

Sam contemplated it before answering, “I’m not really hungry, but yeah, sounds good.”

The older Winchester nodded and turned back, gathering up their things and changing out the guns, they’d used enough of the bullets today, now he’d actually have to go out and replace them.

Within the course of a couple of minutes, they were back in the Impala and Dean stopped by the nearest gun store, talking up the owner before making his purchases. He got the pizza last, ordering enough for leftovers tomorrow and handing them across to Sam as he drove.

They returned to the motel nearly half-passed nine and Dean unloaded the trunk before locking up the car and holding their room door open for Sam.

The younger Winchester walked in, flashing a quick lop-sided grin at Dean as he walked passed him, he sat the pizza on the table and opened the box. He didn’t really have much of an appetite before, but now that they were back, he was hungry.

Sam grabbed a piece of pizza and took a ridiculously large bite as he glanced at Dean, he mumbled around the food, “How much time do you think we have before Dad gets back? He’ll probably show up sometime in the morning, right?”

“Yeah, probably some time early in the mornin’,” Dean dumped the duffel-bag onto the table by the window and locked the door, “Maybe around nine or so.” He moved to his brother, reaching over Sam’s shoulder and grabbing one of the larger slices, folding it in half and nearly inhaling the entire thing. He walked into the kitchen, pulling a beer from the fridge and popping the cap off, taking a gulp and sighing in satisfaction the moment the cold liquid touched his tongue.

Sam watched Dean as he finished his piece of pizza, eying the bottle in his brother’s hand before he cleared his throat, “You should let me have a drink of that.” He didn’t want a whole one, but at his age, he was curious and he wanted to know what it tasted like.

Dean raised his brows and held his own out in offering. Surely, Sam was going to react to it the same way  **he**  had, when he’d snuck one of their dad’s - while John was gone hunting.

It wasn’t a pleasant taste for someone use to soda and milk. It was, honestly, more like an insult than anything. But he figured Sam was old, and honest, enough. The older Winchester withstood a forewarning and simply smiled, waiting for the response that was bound to happen.

Sam took the bottle hesitantly, squinting at Dean as he brought it to his lips and took a sip. The younger Winchester grimaced then coughed as he handed it back eagerly, “That’s disgusting, why do you even bother?” Stupid question, it was  **alcohol**  after all.

Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smacked his lips, “Gross.”

The older Winchester laughed and took a sharp swig, shuffling it around his mouth before swallowing and shrugging, “You get a taste for it after a while. I didn’t like it before either.” He stepped to Sam’s side, taking another slice of pizza as he dropped his hand to his brother’s waist, “It’s kinda like the gun. You just hafta take your time an’ get use to it; s’worth it in the end.”

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he chuckled, “If you think liver damage is worth it.” The younger Winchester stepped a little closer to Dean and raised a brow, nodding towards the other room, “You should take a shower with me when you’re done eating.”

“You’re being pretty suggestive today,” Dean observed, finishing the second slice and taking a third, “At this rate, you’ll be tellin’ me what to do within a few days at the  **most**.” His fingers curled into the hem of Sam’s shirt, pulling him closer as Dean pressed his lips to his brother’s left temple.

“I just… I wanna take advantage of the time alone while we have it,” Sam shrugged, he hadn’t really thought about how suggestive he’d been coming off, “And you’re crazy if you still think that I’m gonna tell you what to do.” The younger Winchester wiped the place where Dean kissed and scowled at the older man, “Greasy pizza kiss, thanks.”

“You’re ‘bout to shower, what’s a bit of grease on your face for a few minutes?” Dean pressed a kiss to the corner of Sam’s lips, backing his brother’s waist against the table. “An’ f’you don’t mind, s’a lot easier to do thin’s with you, f’you gimme some kinda guide, somethin’ to do, s’long as you’re comfortable. I’d prefer you let me know, instead of tryin’ to feel somethin’ like that out.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s hips and shrugged, “I want you to do whatever you want, I’d be okay with just about anything,” He leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to his brother’s greasy lips, “I don’t wanna have to tell you what to do, I just want whatever happens to happen. It’s kind of pointless if I have to tell you, ya know?”

“I just don’t wanna push you in to anythin’, f’you’re not ready,” Dean explained, his lower half pressing firmly to Sam’s, “I know I can be pushy, an’ sometimes I don’t really know when to stop. I’ll just keep goin’ an’ goin’ without really thinkin’.”

He probably wouldn’t, he was sure that the protective side of him, the side that would slaughter anything that even looked at Sam wrong, would kick in, and he’d be able to watch out for his brother’s well-being; but this was a fear that he couldn’t really push back.

It was sexual, it was desire, it was lust and love and longing; need and want. Some times people get stupid with those things. And it scared Dean, to think that he could possibly hurt his brother with something like that. “I gotta know that you want it, otherwise I’m just gonna take it an’ not really think ‘til later.”

“I  **do**  want it,” Sam admitted, licking his lips as he moved his hips a little, “I’m asking you to take it, whatever you want.” The younger Winchester knew that, yeah, he’d be nervous, but anything that Dean wanted, he wanted too. He wanted things to happen in the heat of the moment, as cheesy as that sounded, he didn’t want it to feel planned or thought out.

Dean wasn’t going to push his luck, he made up his mind at once, that he’d wait. If being this close made him nervous, that was enough of an indication that neither of them were ready for more. And it was new, and he respected his brother; he could wait.

“Give it time,” He said as he backed off, taking up another slice of pizza and sipping his beer with it. Teasing himself probably wasn’t a wise thing to do, considering how the beginning half of the day had been, but, if he wanted to, he could be satisfied with how far they’d already went; that was more than enough.

Sam shook his head and ran a hand over his face as he pushed away from the table, “Give it  **time**? You don’t want me now?” The younger Winchester frowned, he felt a little rejected after practically asking for it.

He furrowed his brows and looked at Dean, “It’s the age thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s not your goddamn age at  **all** ,” Dean defended himself, “ **Christ** , Sam. This has nothin’ to do with your age, it never has. This is new to the  _both_ of us, we’re… I mean, fuck, we only just found out about this  **yesterday** , an’ you wanna  _fuck_  already?” Not that he was opposed, as his body responded to the word, the thought of it.

“No,” Sam frowned as he backed away, “Guess not,” He turned and walked over to his duffel-bag and pulled out a pair of boxers. Regardless if Dean was joining him, he still needed a shower. And if his brother didn’t join him, then hell, it’d give him time to think about things.

Dean walked to Sam and took his forearms, “Look, Sammy,” He started, trying to keep himself calm, “These thin’s… They deserve time. You can’t just rush ‘em. I know it sounds unfair, an’ like I’m makin’ up excuses; but I’m not. I couldn’t try’an excuse myself if I wanted to. Because I’d rather not hafta wait at all. I want to, seriously I want to, but I just… This needs some air, first. Don’t you think?”

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Sam responded cut-off and quietly, not quite meeting Dean’s eyes as he pulled away gently, “I’m gonna go shower.” Sam was a teenager, so naturally he wanted sex - nerves aside. But, if Dean wasn’t ready and thought that it needed time, then he didn’t have much of a choice. He looked up to Dean, admired him. And he’d trust his brother’s decision on something like this if he had to.

The older Winchester mirrored his brother’s movements, pressing his chest to Sam’s back and wrapping his arms around the shorter boy’s stomach. Dean didn’t like Sam being so cut off, it was that attitude thing, but he hoped he could get around it this time.

“Just because I want to take time with havin’ sex, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna fuck your brains out, Sammy,” He whispered into his brother’s ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. He ran his nose slightly through the hair above that, reaching a hand up to turn his brother’s face and look into his eyes, “Words can’t explain how much I want you. But there’s plenty of other thin’s we can do, that don’t require complete penetration.”

Sam shivered at his brother’s words, his eyes flickering to Dean’s lips then back up to his eyes, “Okay, you joining me or not?”

The younger Winchester would’ve argued it, but he remembered Dean practically chastising him for his attitude. And to be completely honest, with Dean pressing to him the way he was and how dirty his voice sounded in Sam’s ear; he couldn’t really find it in himself to put up much of an argument.

“With you, if you want,” Dean responded, hands moving lower, the tips of his fingers just brushing the skin under the hem of Sam’s pants. He leaned down, sucking a small, simple hickey against his brother’s collarbone.

“I do,” Sam responded and sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed back into Dean, his fingers wrapping around his brother’s forearm as he tried to move, “Come on.” It was ridiculous how little it took to get Sam hard. Then again, it didn’t ever really take much, not when it came to Dean.

The older Winchester let up, hands leaving his brother’s stomach as he straightened again and walked into the bathroom, kicking his shoes off and pulling up his shirt as he did so. He took down a clean set of towels for the two of them, hanging them up by the shower curtain as he flipped on the hot water.

Sam sat his clean boxers on the sink and pulled his shirt off, he kicked his own shoes away and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down to reveal most of his unimpressive lanky body. He knew he’d fill out eventually, it was just a waiting game and he never really was very patient.

The younger Winchester was undeniably hard, his boxers were tented. He was nervous, Dean hadn’t ever really seen him completely naked. But, if he hesitated, he knew it would be damn near impossible to convince his brother that he was, in fact, ready.

Sam hooked his thumbs into the top of his boxers and pulled them down, his facial expression otherwise blank as he stepped into the shower, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him.

Dean removed the rest of his clothes, shutting the bathroom door behind them as he yanked off his boxer briefs. The only thing left covering him was the amulet his brother had given to him years ago, and he moved forward, joining Sam under the weak spray of the shower head, his chest pressing carefully against Sam’s back as he took up the bulk of space between the tiled wall and the flimsy plastic shower curtain. He reached around his brother and grabbed up the shampoo, lathering up a bead of it in his palm before running his fingers through Sam’s hair, the pads of them massaging down into the younger Winchester’s scalp.

“Goddamn, f’I haven’t done this in years,” He said mindlessly, it  **had**  been a while, but he could practically remember it like it was just yesterday, he’d only ever really been the one to take care of Sam after their mom’s death, John had been… Well, more than neglectful to the pair of them. And, though Dean knew very, very little about taking care of his brother, he’d figured out pretty quickly, what was right, and what was wrong.

Sam closed his eyes and tilted his head back, practically moaning, “God, that feels good.” It was weird, he didn’t remember it feeling  _that_  good when it was just him doing it. But, he was pretty sure that Dean could bring pleasure to just about anything that he touched.

The older Winchester rinsed out Sam’s hair, lips closing along his brother’s neck, kissing and nipping after the last of the bubbles. His hands smoothed down Sam’s sides, his hips and thighs as Dean breathed against the heating skin under his mouth.

Sam laid his head back on Dean’s shoulder and let out a heavy breath, his right hand reaching back to feel the skin on his brother’s hip. It almost felt like silk under his fingertips, hot and wet, pressed right against him.

Dean reached out, grabbing the conditioner and rubbing the smooth liquid through his brother’s hair, lips still moving along Sam’s shoulder and his left arm wrapped around the younger Winchester’s waist, turning him bodily and pressing their chests together as Dean took up his chin, lifting it before covering his brother’s mouth with his own.

Sam reached up, his hand sliding effortlessly across his brother’s skin, to the back of his neck, pulling him in more. The younger Winchester tilted his head a little, letting the kiss consume him briefly, the hot little give and take of their lips making his head swim with lust.

Dean was amazing, in just about every sense of the word, even at kissing, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder, “Why me?” Or at least he was pretty sure he wondered it, thought it, something of that nature. His brother could have just about anybody he wanted, man or woman, and yet here he was, in the shower with Sam.

Dean chuckled and pulled his brother in close, his arms wrapping around the younger Winchester’s waist. “Could it really ever be anyone else?” He asked, kissing along Sam’s jaw as he pushed his brother back against the cold tiled wall and smeared their bodies together, “Seriously, Sam. I don’t care ‘bout anyone else. I don’t think I have a say in this, even if I want it.”

Sam arched his back away from the wall, his hands clinging to the back of his brother’s neck, finger’s occasionally running through his hair, “I know I don’t deserve something like this, you in general. And damn it, I’m thankful, but I just- It’s confusing when you could have anyone… **literally**.”

The younger Winchester bit his lip and shook his head a minute later, letting his right hand slide down Dean’s bicep, “Jesus Christ. It’s stupid of me to assume… that this is any more than it appears.”

It wasn’t like they were exclusive now,  _or were they? Fuck._  He didn’t know.

“Calm down a sec, okay?” Dean lifted Sam’s chin again, “What’s with all the sudden insecurities?” He ran his other hand down his brother’s waist, staring into his eyes with calm assurance, “First of all, I don’t  **want** anyone else, an’ second, what makes you think this  _appears_  to just be sex, or somethin’ less? It’s  **not** , for me it’s not. For me, this is… This is  **as settled as it gets**  for me. I’m not goin’ out lookin’ for someone, because I don’t want any body else.”

“It’s not just about that for me either,” Sam started, his eyes glued to Dean’s as his stomach twisted with his brother’s words, “Just forget I said anything, please? I don’t even know why I brought it up.” Technically, he hadn’t meant to, but whatever. He did, however, feel slightly more reassured with Dean’s words, more at ease about the whole thing.

Dean leaned down, pressing his lips to Sam’s again to reaffirm what he’d said, rolling his hips against the younger Winchester’s as he reached down, taking the body wash and running a smear of bubbles and soap across Sam’s chest.

He wanted to make sure that the only insecurities his brother had were brought on by something else, someone else, not by Dean himself. He had to make sure that there wasn’t a single thought of doubt, of his affections, left in Sam’s mind. And he’d do everything he could to keep his word to his brother, the last thing he wanted was to hurt him.

Sam rested his hands on Dean’s hips, his thumbs brushing the skin softly as he rolled his hips in turn, almost gasping from the sensation. It wasn’t so much that Sam was insecure, it was just that Dean was…  **Dean**. But, it damn near made his heart swell to know that he wanted Sam and no one else.

The older Winchester ran the trail of body wash down Sam’s sides, moving inward to his stomach before sliding down the inside of his thighs, the pads of his fingers pressing into his brother’s skin. His lips parted, tongue lightly running along Sam’s bottom lip as Dean groaned into his mouth.

Sam’s hips bucked when he did, like his body was yearning for his brother, his cock slotted against his brother’s hip. The younger Winchester trailed his left hand up to Dean’s chest, he brushed the pads of his finger’s over his right nipple, nipping at Dean’s lips as he rolled the sensitive little bud between two fingers.

Dean’s eyes opened, widening slightly and he let out a shuddery, weak gasp, his hands moving around Sam’s knees and running back up the outside of his brother’s thighs. They wrapped around, fingers just touching the back of Sam’s legs before dragging lines of body wash over the younger Winchester’s ass.

Sam sighed, his fingers still rolling and tugging Dean’s nipple as he hit his head off of the hard tile behind him, his skin tingling from his brother’s touch.

In respect to their earlier debacle about waiting; this wasn’t so bad, the touching and the teasing. Sam rolled his hips again, the slick skin of his brother’s hip pulling a whimper out of him as his cock slid along the divot there.

“So beautiful, baby boy,” Dean breathed against Sam’s ear, dropping down to run the soap suds down his brother’s legs. He kissed, mouth laying open smacks and suckles along the smaller boy’s chest and stomach, kissing his soft belly and navel as his hands caressed Sam’s thighs, “Goddamn, you’re so beautiful.”

Sam could practically feel his breathing catch in his throat, his head swimming with Dean’s words - thick like honey ringing into his ear and shooting straight to his dick, making him throb and ache in ways he didn’t know were possible.

The weak spray of the water had matted his shaggy hair to his skin, his lips parted as he looked up to Dean, starting almost breathlessly as the black of his irises dilated and left a small rim of hazel, “Touch me,” The younger Winchester grabbed one of his brother’s soap slicked hands and wrapped it around his cock, guiding him as he folded his own fingers around Dean’s girth, “Please?”

Dean kissed Sam’s chin and jaw, wet, sloppy, heated kisses as his rough fingers took up his brother’s hardened cock. He pumped it slow and smooth, his other hand venturing lower, cupping Sam’s balls as his index fingers rubbed the soft skin beneath them. He’d wanted to do this for so long, been scared to, and even now he was slightly hesitant.

But Sam’s words spurred him forward, gave him confidence to wander, kisses pressing into his brother’s ear and underneath, resting the shorter boy’s head on Dean’s shoulder as his legs shook.

“Anythin’ you want, Sammy,” He said as he shuddered, “Anythin’ you want, you just tell me an’ I’ll give it to you.”

Sam groaned, his thumb swiping gently over the plush head of Dean’s erection before he began stroking him in turn, “This’ll work-“- _considering you probably still don’t want to fuck._  The younger Winchester bucked his hips, his dick sliding silkily between Dean’s fingers as his breathing picked up.

“Wantchyou so bad, baby boy,” Dean breathed through the steam surrounding them, his left hand moving around to slip down the crack of Sam’s ass, touching tentatively, slow, short strokes over his sweet, puckered, virgin entrance.

Sam would be so tight, unbelievably snug, smothering his cock. He could imagine it already, having the younger Winchester around him, Dean’s strong thrusts rocking into him. The awesome, broken look plastered on Sam’s face as he fell apart underneath Dean.

Sam wrapped one arm around the back of Dean’s neck, counting on him for support because with Dean touching him like that, he thought his legs were going to give out.

“Please,” Sam murmured in between rutting into Dean’s fist and pushing himself back towards his brother’s fingers, tugging at Dean’s cock a few more times before his fingers went slack, the mere thought of Dean fucking into him making his whole body go stupid with want.

It was pathetic what Dean could do to him, practically melting his bones into putty with a few touches. The younger Winchester knew he’d beg for it, knew he’d be shameless about it too. He’d downright get on his knees and grovel for it if he had to.

Dean smirked at the response he was getting from his brother, Sam was so needy, so willing like this. He would’ve never imagined it, considering how bitter Sam was, how constantly argumentative the younger Winchester could be. Dean had an effect on him, though, and he was stubborn enough to continue his ministrations.

His left index finger had worried it’s way through the tight ring of muscle, teasing Sam’s inner walls with small thrusts, the top joint sinking into his brother and flicking about before retreating and repeating the motion. His other hand gripped Sam’s cock firm and pumped the length, smearing wash and come together over the erection, “Wanna taste you, Sammy.”

When he’d said it, he’d been thinking of the length in his hand, but goddamn, he wouldn’t mind his mouth being everywhere, tongue mirroring the fingers pressing into Sam’s ass; the thought made his mouth feel suddenly dry.

Sam craned his neck up desperately, his lips crashing into Dean’s for yet just another contact point, his mind and body practically melting with sensory overload as he moaned against his brother’s soft, plump lips, “Then do it,” He shifted his hips back further towards Dean’s fingers, gasping as they sunk deeper into him, “God, Dean,  _please_.”

It burned a little, that was to be expected, but eventually the burn settled into this dull, yet exquisite sensation. The younger Winchester almost felt vulnerable; leaving himself so open for Dean like this, pleading and whining for anything Dean would give him. But another part of him liked it, every inch of his skin felt it was vibrating from just the way Dean looked at him.

“Sonovabitch,” Dean said, dropping suddenly. His hands changed as his mouth took Sam’s cock, left reaching up and pressing to Sam’s chest to hold the smaller boy up, right replacing the fingers that had left his brother’s entrance, filling him once more with careful, eager, teasing strokes. Dean’s tongue ran flat drags under Sam’s cock, surrounding the desperate length with his mouth and hallowing his cheeks as he tasted the small globs of pre-come, beads dripping along the end of his tongue.

“Oh God,” Sam moaned and cracked his head against the tile once again, torn between watching and looking away because seeing Dean from this point of view was just- “-so fucking hot.” And if he was completely honest with himself, he knew he wouldn’t last long if he watched those big, beautiful lips stretch around him, taking all he had to offer.

Dean’s index fingers pressed forward inside of Sam, stroking and teasing along the inside of him, his tongue mirroring the flicks as he breathed through his nose. He pushed Sam with his right wrist, forcing the hips to thrust against his mouth, left thumb reaching out carefully to run circles around his brother’s left nipple. Dean was so completely fucking hard with the thought of this, what he was doing to his brother, the sounds and words he was springing from Sam’s lips. He’d hungered for this day and night, and the reality was almost overwhelming.

Sam could feel his cock throb in Dean’s mouth as that familiar warmth started to pool low in his stomach, making his balls tighten up as he ran a hand through the top of Dean’s short spiky hair, tugging gently, “Dean, **shit** ,” He bucked his hips into Dean’s mouth and held on to the back of his brother’s head, wanting to hear him gag on it, “Yeah.”

The older Winchester was taken by slight surprise as his brother’s hands grabbed hold of him. Dean gasped, feeling the pulsating dick resting on his tongue twitching as Sam came, and he swallowed, closing his eyes as he breathed and stammered, choking around his brother’s cock as the hot come filled his mouth. His fingers retreated from their positions, palms pressing flat on Sam’s waist as Dean reveled in the sweet, sour taste of the shorter boy standing over him.

The younger Winchester relaxed his steel firm grip on the back of Dean’s head, letting him ease off as Sam slackened, slumped against the tiles as he stared down at Dean all wide eyed and breathless. He knew he should have given his brother more of a warning, but he couldn’t think past those sweet lips sucking him down. Even now, as his breathing returned to normal, his body still longing for Dean’s, he  **still**  couldn’t find the right words.

Dean lapped at his brother’s cock, milking the last dribbles of come from the tip before he turned Sam around, pressing his chest to the tiles of the shower wall as Dean kissed his lower back, mouth wandering between Sam’s ass cheeks, tongue tasting the skin his fingers had been worrying. Dean gripped his brother’s soft, pink flesh as he ran the squishy, flexible muscle over Sam’s puckered entrance, pressing sure and careful against the folds.

Sam’s eyes widened a little as he put his palms against the cool tiles, his heart hammering nervously in his chest at the new sensation as his cock twitched weakly with interest. Oh, the joys of being a teenager. This was nice though, Dean taking something he wanted without asking for it, knowing that Sam would give it willingly anyway.

“Fucking Hell,” The younger Winchester moaned and writhed his body against Dean’s face, his fingers flexing against the tile as he struggled to keep himself upright.

Dean watched the younger Winchester, reading into him the best he could as Dean pressed into Sam, tongue fucking the entrance as he pulled his brother’s back into a slight arch. His hands held Sam open, spreading him wider as Dean felt his knees pressing hard into the tub below them, the hot water starting to let up.

Sam’s nipples were starting to harden at the change of temperature in the water, little goosebumps breaking out all over his skin. The younger Winchester canted his hips backwards one more time before finding his voice, “Dean,” He pressed his forehead to the cold tiles, panting against them as he licked his lips, “Let’s get out and take it somewhere else - water’s cold.”

The older Winchester reached out, turning the water off and standing, “Yeah, don’t wanna catch’a cold or somethin’.” He pulled Sam up into his arms, both hands under his brother as he stepped carefully from the shower, out into the front room of the motel, laying his brother out on their bed and climbing over him.

He turned the smaller boy over once more, taking to Sam’s hips and lapping over the puckered entrance again. It was different without the water, a bit cold, damp, and soft as Dean settled his body along the foot of the bed, one hand reaching up to run over Sam’s back as the older Winchester breathed hot ghosts of air against his brother’s heat.

Sam whimpered at the warm press of Dean’s tongue as he grabbed fistfuls of the comforter, pulling it in as he tried to keep himself warm. The lower part of his body buzzing and radiating warmth from his brother’s gentle licks and breaths, the conflicting sensations causing him to get hard again.

Dean was so swollen that he almost couldn’t breathe. He reached down, palming himself as his other hand moved from Sam’s backside, he wet the fingers, pressing the first, carefully and slippery, through the taught ring of muscle, worrying against the inner walls.

He panted and shuddered, fingers tight around his cock as he tugged himself, slow, tantalizing jerks of the skin as he nipped the dimples above Sam’s ass. His brother was perfect, all needy and wanton under Dean, barely able to contain himself. The older Winchester felt a dribble of pre-come wetting the tip of his fingers and he groaned.

Sam moaned and rocked his hips, wanting more but he was too afraid to ask for it. Afraid that Dean would just tell him that it needs more air… or time, or whatever it was that he said it needed. But Sam needed the body heat, needed to feel the warmth of his big brother pressing into and covering him completely, wanted it more than anything, ached with it. His best shot, he thought, was to maybe be a little vague about it and hope that Dean would bite, both figuratively and literally.

“Christ, Dean,” Sam practically sobbed with want, shameless and pliant to Dean’s will, “Fuck,  **please**.”

“Please  _what_?” Dean asked, nearly swallowing his tongue at the tone of his brother’s voice, the sound of Sam, so eager, begging for him to give– _give what? Release?_  Sam had already came.  _Unless_ –“You want me  _in_  you?” Dean asked, lifting up to press his chest against Sam’s back, his lips to his brother’s ear, “You want me to fuck you?” He hadn’t meant for it to sound as dark, as filthy as it did, his breath heavy with lust, cock straining and weeping, causing his voice to appear breathless and heated as he ghosted the tip of his erection against Sam’s ass hole, “You want this, baby boy?”

Sam could feel the blunt tip of it lingering there, teasing him mercilessly and driving him out of his skin with desire. Dean’s voice registering low and so full of sex in his ear that he actually moaned from it, the effect his brother had on him was becoming ridiculous.

The younger Winchester could feel the blush settling high in his cheeks as he tried his best to answer, “Y-Yeah, yes,” The small wave of humiliation he felt admitting that - practically whining and pressing his hips against Dean like a bitch in heat - made his cock swell even more.

Sam was learning all sorts of knew things about himself that he didn’t know before. And as much as it ached and totally fucking sucked on one hand, he realized he liked this; Dean teasing him, making Sam answer him even though he already knew the answer.

“How do you want it?” Dean turned Sam’s face to him, pressing a careful kiss to the corner of his brother’s lips, “You wanna face me? You want me to fuck you like this? You wanna ride me? Or…” Goddamn, there were other things he’d had in mind, drilling Sam against the wall, bouncing him in his lap on the couch, fucking him on the counter in the kitchen.

Dean grabbed Sam’s ass tight in his fists, thrusting his hips into the small boy’s as his cock slid between the cheeks, the length of him dragging over Sam’s entrance, the tip of his dick sticking out as a pert pink cap between the dimples of his brother’s ass.

Sam looked back at him longingly as he continued to cant his hips backwards, lust hazing his thoughts for a moment before he answered, “However you want me, I just want you in me.” As far as Sam was concerned, Dean could throw him in the floor and fuck him so hard that he got rug burns on his face and he’d sport them proudly. And to the younger Winchester, that would still be satisfactory, as long as Dean fucked him. 

Dean reached under his side’s pillow, taking the lubricant and he sat back in indian style, ankles crossed, knees bent as he pulled Sam up, turned him around so that the younger boy was facing him. He lifted his chin and pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips, resting his brother’s palms against his chest.

The older Winchester popped the cap of the lube, warming a formidable amount between his palms, running one hand over his cock and fingering Sam’s entrance as he watched his brother’s face, “You just tell me, baby boy. You keep with me, you let me know. ‘Want this to be right ‘tween us.”

Sam’s eyes flickered from Dean’s mouth to his eyes as he licked his lips and nodded slowly, knowing full well that it would be perfect no matter how Dean gave it to him. It felt good to have something back inside of him, stretching him and filling him, getting him ready and slicked open for Dean’s cock and God  **damn**  if that didn’t make his own cock twitch with anticipation.

“Good boy,” Dean pressed a flurry of nips and kisses to his brother’s neck, adoring Sam’s jaw line before he leaned back slightly, one hand reaching behind to hold himself up, the other lifting Sam’s hips so he could position his cock against the puckered entrance.

His eyes met the younger Winchester’s, “You take your time, okay, just start lowerin’ your hips. S’gonna burn, baby boy.”

Sam rested his hands on Dean’s chest, his blunt nails occasionally pressing into the soft flesh as he lowered his hips slowly, feeling the slight burn as the tip of his brother’s cock breached past his muscled entrance.

The younger Winchester stilled his hips then, letting his body get used to at least the girth of the tip before he slid down any further. Sam looked at Dean through his shaggy bangs as he brought the edge of his nails down over his brother’s nipples, the corner of his mouth twisting up slightly as he leaned in and pressed a heated, teasing kiss to his brother’s lips.

Dean smiled as he kissed back, reaching the hand from behind himself to push the bangs from Sam’s face, cupping his cheek and running his thumb over the crease of Sam’s right dimple, “Goddamn,” He breathed, looking down between them, observing his brother sitting atop him, “You’re th’most beautiful thin’ I ever seen, baby boy.”

Sam was so tight, Dean almost couldn’t breathe because of it, his stomach was stirring something fierce, nervous eagerness taking hold in the pit of it, the want to fill his brother, the strong desire to satisfy them both, to take what was Dean’s, and Dean’s alone.

“Mine,” He said, thumb pushing between his brother’s thinner lips.

“Yours,” Sam whispered, his eyes fixated on Dean’s as he brought the thumb into his mouth, sucking on it gently as he closed his eyes and sank further down on his brother’s length, “ **Yours** ,” He groaned again, scraping his teeth along the flesh of Dean’s thumb.

The younger Winchester almost wished that there was some sort of mirror on the wall next to the bed or even on the ceiling so that he could see the image that they created together. Even without one, he knew it had to beat out any porno he ever laid his eyes on.

“Always wanted this,” The older Winchester said as he removed the hand that was keeping his cock in place, now that he was guided inside of Sam, “Always wanted you, Sammy.” His hand rested on his brother’s hip, the other moving back to hold himself up as his waist shifted slightly, cock wriggling inside of Sam.

“You got it now,” Sam said breathlessly, moving his hips experimentally in a slow figure eight motion, “You got me.” It was true too. The younger Winchester knew he was already so strung out on Dean that no one else would ever compare.

Dean took his bottom lip into his mouth, biting it as his hand dropped from Sam’s waist, running through a few simple tugs of his brother’s cock, watching the skin of it fold between his fingers.

“So beautiful,” He breathed, licking the tips of his thumb and index finger before dragging them over the head of his brother’s dick, along the slit and around the foreskin. His Sammy, so young, so virgin, so perfect in his hand, a mess of growing limbs spread out on his lap, body humming with the anticipation of their sex, and he was so tempted to fuck up into his brother; but Dean resisted.

Sam felt his blush return with a vengeance at Dean’s words and he moaned quietly, no one other than Dean had ever called him that before and it felt nice, foreign - but in a pleasant way.

The younger Winchester knew he had a decent face, but as it stood he was still in that awkward stage where his body was stuck between puberty and adolescence. He was tall for his age, of course, but still shorter than Dean, his body thin and lanky. And, even if he didn’t necessarily see what Dean saw in him, he wasn’t going to argue it - because it meant that someone wanted him and, more importantly, that someone was Dean.

Sam picked his hips up and moved them back down, watching his brother with heavy lidded hazel eyes as he set out a slow rocking motion.

“Perfect,” Dean breathed as he wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist, drawing the younger boy in against him, pressing their chests together as he kissed along Sam’s neck and shoulder, hips responding with his brother’s. It was slow, careful, but he was patient; he didn’t want to hurt the smaller boy.

“So tight, Sam,” He turned into the corner joint, where Sam’s neck and jaw met, biting the soft skin as both of his arms encased the younger Winchester now, muscles flexing as he gripped Sam’s torso, “So tight ‘round me, perfect.”

Every time Sam canted his hips down and Dean moved up to meet him, it was like white streaks of lightning coursing up through his back, lighting his skin aflame with pleasure. Dean’s praise putting him that much further on edge and Sam wanted to return it, tell his big brother just how  **big**  he was and how good he felt, but he didn’t. Instead Sam moved Dean’s hands, placing them on his hips as he looked at Dean, confident, “Fuck me,  _harder_ ,” He moved his hips down one more time, it felt good, but he wanted Dean to use him up and leave a reminder of who was there.

Dean groaned at the comment, moving to lay Sam on his back, the older Winchester covering him with his body. He gripped his brother’s hips tight in his hands as he began thrusting, strong, powerful movements, slamming into Sam in sure, measured segments.

He was careful to position himself, the thrusts as firm and calculated as just about anything else he did, timed, sure, burying himself in Sam’s heat over and over again. He felt the tight muscle around him becoming accustomed to his movements and Dean kissed Sam - lips, cheeks, neck and chest, nearly whimpering himself as he thrust into the younger boy.

Sam panted as he looked up at Dean, mesmerized as he watched his brother’s well-toned muscles help slam his body into Sam’s. Part of him couldn’t wait to fill out the way Dean had, to not be so lanky, to be taller and not so thin. If some point in the future that happened, he knew he’d take advantage of it, make Dean shudder underneath him with his sheer strength.

The younger Winchester wrapped his right hand behind Dean’s neck, stealing glances down between them and moaning louder each time when his brother thrust into him, “Fuck! Dean,  _God_ ,” He lolled his head to the side and tried moving his hips up to meet Dean’s, “Amazing-It feels _amazing_.”

“Mmhmm,” Dean said, pressing his forehead against Sam’s temple as he continued to move. “Sammy,” Dean was practically shuddering now, struggling to keep himself calm, to make sure that his thrusts were timed and careful, but still rough and intense.

He was close, his toes were curling, his knees were struggling for purchase on the mattress, his arms were pulling Sam up off the bed, into his embrace as Dean held him impossibly close, thrusts becoming increasingly hard, burying himself balls deep into Sam each time, and his gasps came out sharp and breathless against his brother’s lips.

Sam wrapped both of his arms around Dean’s neck to hold him tight, the heat between their bodies was close to scorching. At this angle, whenever Dean thrust in, Sam practically cried out with pleasure, arching his back as he murmured a litany of curses against Dean’s lips.

A few more thrusts in the same manner and the younger Winchester was coming against his will, painting both of their stomachs with warm spurts of come, his cock left mainly untouched, “ _Dean_.”

The older Winchester winced at the tightness around him and he felt as though his own orgasm was being ripped forth from his body, drawn out by the ring of muscle spasming. His legs tremored and his eyes widened as stared into his brother’s face, watching him as Dean struggled to keep their gaze locked.

His brows notched as he filled Sam, thrusts slowing and he smiled, “Well, god-fuckin’-damn.”

“And  **you**  thought that we needed to wait,” Sam grinned, taking deep breaths in through his nose and blowing them out through his mouth to calm himself down, “Whatever, man. That was awesome.”

The younger Winchester kissed the corners of Dean’s mouth before laying one right on his lips, lingering only briefly before he pulled away. It was going to be nice to have at least  **this**  to hang onto over the next few weeks. Sam knew their Dad would be back and it’d probably be impossible to find time to sneak off together.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, you were right,” Dean grinned and rolled off of his brother, bringing Sam with him and squeezing him tight, “S’hard though, resistin’ you.” He kissed the top of Sam’s head as he caught his breath, “We gotta clean up, he’ll be here’n just a matter of hours now, I know he’s comin’ in fuckin’ early.”

Sam kissed his brother’s chest lazily, “It’s gonna be difficult,” He started, tracing Dean’s nipple tenderly with the tip of his finger, “To act like I don’t wanna suck your dick or have you fuck me until I can’t remember my own name.” The younger Winchester peeked up at Dean and smiled.

Dean raised a brow and looked down at his brother, “Goddamn, Sammy.” He chuckled, lifting Sam’s chin more and pressing his lips to the younger boy’s, “That’s a fuckin’ thought.” Hearing Sam say those words, without a thought of hesitation or consideration, just right out of his goddamn mouth, nearly had Dean tripping over himself. 

Sam hummed happily against Dean’s lips before slapping the older Winchester on the thigh playfully, “Alright, come on,” He grumbled, moving off of him, “We should get started, the whole room stinks.”

It was going to be Hell, to go for an undetermined amount of time without being able to touch Dean in more than a platonic, brotherly way. But it would almost be worth it, a light at the end of the tunnel if you will.

Definitely something to look forward to - to know that when the time came again, he’d be able to touch Dean however he wanted, because Dean was his and he was Dean’s.


End file.
